Amsterdam Autumn

My trip to Munich four weeks ago occurred during the last gasp of warm sun and bright skies until 2012. It feels like the sun comes up two hours later than it did during that first week of October, and it the temperatures require pants and a jacket at all times. I did not pack many “warm” clothes for my move, since most of them were old, and suitcase space was limited. So I've had to purchase a warm winter coat and some gloves, and I'm sure I'll be making more purchases soon.

The change in daylight has been everything I'd been told to expect. It's been quite dark out at 8:00am, and the sun has stayed relatively low above the horizon during the day. Cloudiness has combined with the low sun to make much of the daytime hours dark and gloomy, like a twilight that lasts for several hours.

The first part of the Dutch autumn has not been all gloom and doom, though. Gray and rainy weekdays have yielded to bright and crisp weekends, and consecutive Sunday runs with the Hash House Harriers have been very nice.

This part of the Netherlands is not known for its trees (indeed, it's popular to tell new arrivals that many parts of Amsterdam are located on former swamp and drainage areas). Nevertheless, the change in the color of the leaves has been nice at times, especially when bright sun pokes through leaden skies to illuminate yellow, red, and orange leaves. There's a subtle, stoic beauty in the way that steel gray skies frame Dutch apartments lining canals and rivers. And it's fun watching seeing the Dutch break out their fashionable winter clothing and embodying one of their favorite adjectives: gezellig (rough translation being “cozy”).

Bridges in Amsterdam often rise to allow boats to pass through. A house boat was being towed down the Amstel by another boat.

Just down the road from my office.

My street.

The four images above were taken around 9:00am in Beatrixpark, where I had my bike accident.

The few remaining roses contrast with the fall colors and cool air.

A statue in the Artis zoo (picture taken just outside the zoo).

Oktoberfest

I initially wanted to go to Krakow for my birthday instead of Munich. I did an amazing hike there in 2002, and I wanted to return, do that hike again, and perhaps do some others. Ticket prices and travel time were high, though, and I decided that Munich was a better option for a long-weekend trip. Plus, Munich had an extra feature in its favor: my trip coincided with the last weekend of Oktoberfest.

I must admit that, before I went to Munich, I didn't have a good idea of what Oktoberfest is. I've had beers that are labeled Oktoberfest (Spaten and other German imports to the U.S. have Oktoberfest styles – at least for the international market – as does Sam Adams), and I vaguely pictured some special harvest themed events in Bavaria during Oktober (which, I'm guessing, roughly corresponds with October in English). Apart from that, my impressions of Oktoberfest were probably some misguided interpretations of Beerfest.

I'd specifically pictured a series of tents set up in public squares and parks, with bars serving liters of beer, and some special themes within existing beer gardens.

In reality, Oktoberfest in Munich is basically the state fair in Phoenix (and most other large U.S. cities, I'd imagine), but with a lot of beer. There is a giant asphalt area with rides, stands selling fair food (though, notably, sausages, pretzels, and candied almonds rather than corn dogs, deep fried butter, coke, and Snickers), and masses of families and small children. Unlike U.S. fairs, though, the main event is drinking beer.

There are several large “tents” set up in the Oktoberfest grounds. They are not the types of tents that one might picture. From the outside, they look like permanent structures, and from the inside, they don't feel much different from indoor beer gardens in Munich. There are several tents set up throughout the Oktoberfest ground, each for a different brewery (e.g., Paulaner, Hofbrau, Hacker-Pshor).

There are masses of long, wooden tables set up within each tent. Each tent sells liters of beer and Bavarian food, like giant pretzels, whole roasted chickens, sausages, boiled potatoes, and pork cutlets. “Waitresses” walk around, but I was told that most (perhaps all) of them are not employed by the tents, but instead buy from the main beer area and charge people an extra euro or so for food and drink in exchange for transporting it.

It's easy to see why this system would work. The tables are long, and each is packed with people. In the center of the table, you might have 20 others to your left and 20 to your right. It's a major hassle to get up.

The table that I ended up sitting at was filled with friendly (and intoxicated) Germans who were thrilled to talk to an American. There was “Herman the German,” an engineering consultant who gave me his business card and urged me to send him an email later (I did; I did not hear back from him). There was a middle-aged woman who wanted to engage me in a serious discussion about American foreign policy. There was a young law student who repeatedly proclaimed his love for me, even though we'd only exchanged about ten words up to that point. There was a recent college graduate who told me how much he loves Amsterdam, and how much he wants to return.

Ruth and I each had a quick liter of beer before I had to catch my flight. There's something very satisfying about drinking beer a liter at a time. I definitely realized that I'd just quickly drank a liter of beer when I stood up and left the tent, though.

It is amazing that people go to Oktoberfest and drink liter after liter of beer, both for the alcohol consumption, and for the price. Each liter was about 10 euros, and it's common for Germans to spend all day at Oktoberfest and drink three or four of them. Though I suppose that I could picture doing that with some fellow ASU alumni if they were interested.

Ruth and Herman the German

Me and the woman who wanted to express that the U.S. should love more and attack countries less.

The Alps

I was extremely fortunate to have stayed with Ruth, my couchsurfing host. She was fun and interesting, and she coordinated with her friends to organize a hike in Austria specifically for my stay. And she had a brand new Audi, which her parents were leasing and letting her drive.

We left her apartment around 6:30am on Sunday and picked up three of her friends in town before hopping on the Autobahn to drive across the German border into Austria. I didn't get any pictures of the scenes of the countryside, but they were as awe-inspiring as the photos from the Alps. In some parts, mists rose from the grassy fields that were dotted with livestock and bordered by dark, thick Bavarian forests. In other parts, the clouds hung low in the sky and descended down toward the ground. Rays of bright morning sunlight poked through occasionally, making the entire landscape glow in silvers and golds. Many of the romantic visions of rural Europe were represented along this drive – lone farmhouses, rolling hills, sheep and cattle, a random fox running through a field, and villagers dressed in traditional Bavarian garb riding tractors through the narrow streets of small cities.

We pulled off of the main highway and drove ten minutes up a mountain road to the base of the trail. The first part of the trail was a steep, unremarkable road without much along the lines of views. After the quick gain in elevation, though, we were able to see the peaks above and the valley floor below. And then, after a bit more elevation gain, we found ourselves at an alpine cabin which functioned as a restaurant serving beer and Austrian food.

At this point, we had a decision to make. The trail split into two parts: one that went up very steeply and required some climbing gear, and another that made a more gentle ascent to the peak. I felt some ambivalence toward the route choice. I had zero outdoor climbing experience (and very little experience in any environment), and I had very little desire to injure myself 500 miles from my home, and several hours of hiking from the car. But the group was very into taking the steeper route, and they insisted that it was suitable for beginners, so I went along with.

The ascent was indeed quite steep. We crossed the tree line and hiked along a narrow rocky trail with little traction and a lot of loose, large rocks. The sun felt quite warm beating down on us.

The trail stopped at a series of ridges, and the others took out their gear. They had packed extra harnesses for Ruth and me, and Ruth and I had rented helmets at the cabin at the base of the mountain. We clipped our harnesses to lines in the side of the rock formations and walked along the narrow ledges on the side of the mountain. It turned out to be incredibly easy, and there was only one point where I felt that I was in a bit of trouble (there was a climb straight up, and my arms started to tire as I figured out where to lift myself to on the rock face).

The views during the ascent – and especially at the top – were incredible. The pictures do a good job of describing it, but there's always a bit lost from the natural colors, textures, and expansive, panoramic views.

After having lunch at the top, we made our way down the “easy” route that we had bypassed in favor of the more challenging trail. We stopped at the cabin and had beer and snacks, and then we made our way back down toward the car. In all, we were on the trail from around 9am to about 7pm.

It was a great experience for me. Doing a “real” hike in the Alps was a solid part of my bucket list. It's always nice to cross something off the bucket list.

This trail came with genuine Alps sheep.

Ruth with sheep.

The picture proving I was there.


The best water I've ever tasted, straight from a spring.

My German hiking companions.











The long hike above the tree line.

Lots of Jesus in these mountains.

Munich

Last year, I took a trip to the San Juan mountains in Colorado with Paul Hooper as a birthday present to myself. We backpacked into a lake at 11000 feet to camp overnight, and we hiked up to 13000 the following morning. It was an incredible experience, and I decided to try replicating it by taking a trip to Munich and hiking in the Alps for my 30^th birthday.

I emailed a few couchsurfers in Munich who had “hiking” listed in their interests, and a woman named Ruth got back to me in early September. She said that the first weekend in October worked for her, and that she'd be up for both a hike and a trip to Oktoberfest. So I booked a ticket to arrive in Munich early on a Friday and leave in the afternoon of a Monday.

I'd been to Munich once before, in 2002, during my month long loop around Europe. During that trip, my travel companions and I didn't see that much of the city. We spent our time taking day trips to a castle an hour outside of town and the concentration Dachau, and spending time in beer gardens. So I was really seeing the city through new eyes.

I was struck by how grand and imperialistic Munich seemed after I've been living in Amsterdam for four months. Amsterdam is a modest city overall – few large palaces or churches, no archways or gold plated statues. Munich has all of these things: arches and large roundabouts; Greek statues; sculptures; and museums documenting empires.

Outside of the palaces, museums, and government buildings, the architecture is uniquely Bavarian.

The interior of the imperial residence museum.

Like Amsterdam bars, Munich bars and restaurants advertise the beer they serve.


This type of scene is common in Munich: lots of empty liters of beer.

Munich has similar outdoor markets as Amsterdam.

I went to a flea market with Ruth and saw all sorts of German trinkets.



The common apartment styles in Munich







Chestnuts sold on the street.




Many of the bakeries in Munich sell the iconic Bavarian giant pretzels

Most of my time in Munich was spent wandering aimlessly around the town, popping into random museums and shops, and taking pictures along the way. I did get out of town into Austria for hiking, and I visited Oktoberfest. Separate posts for those.